Baciare il Ragazzo
by Moth Mask
Summary: This fic contains cracky, semi-OOC RussEst, Italy having good ideas, badly-hidden pairings, Google Translated Italian, The Little Mermaid music, and potential violation of the laws of Venice. You have been warned.  Rated K  for paranoia


All right. Here's a slightly cracky, OOC Russia/Estonia oneshot. That I started late at night out of both boredom and sudden inspiration. The song is "Kiss the Girl" from Disney's The Little Mermaid, with some alterations (Switched some pronouns because Estonia is _not_ a girl, Google-translated a few lines into Italian because they sounded awkward in English and I'm uncreative right now ._. And I changed a line to fit the rhyme scheme).

LET THE DISNEY-INSPIRED OOC SEMI-CRACK COMMENCE :D

**xChibi-Nick, I miss youuu D':**

**I own nothing.**

**~o~**

Italy had a plan. Now, normally, this would be enough to send anyone running for the hills. But just this once, it was a good plan.

It had all started with the World Meeting, which had been held in Venice that month. Although Italy was supposed to host it, Germany wound up doing most of the work (as usual), leaving his airheaded friend's mind free to wander. The first day of the meeting, Italy's mind wandered over to Russia.

oOo

_'Ve~ Pasta sounds nice right now. I think I'll have some pasta for lunch. And dinner. And maybe for brea__k__fast tomorrow, too...'_

Italy's carbohydrate-filled train of thought trailed off as his eyes swept around the room. _'Everyone seems so happy today!'_ He smiled. Everyone was being strangely docile. It was refreshing, considering how much they normally fought. His gaze, which had been jumping from one nation to the other, landed on Russia. His smile faded.

Russia looked very uncomfortable. It was a strange sight to behold. The big, powerful, and often creepy nation was fidgeting with his pen, lost in thought. Occasionally, he scribbled something on the sheet of paper in front of him, but he mostly just stared at it.

Italy watched in fascination as Russia furrowed his brow in... confusion? Nervousness? _'Ve, this is weird! I didn't know it was possible for him to be like this,' _Italy thought.

He was about to tug on Germany's sleeve and point out the unusual behavior, but something stopped him.

Italy watched as Estonia turned to say something to Russia. The larger nation quickly hid the bit of paper he had been staring at under another sheet, and replied. He seemed slightly flustered. The second-oldest of the Baltics looked concerned for a moment, before returning to his notes on America's latest stupid idea. Russia visibly relaxed, and brought the other sheet of paper back out.

oOo

The rest of the meeting went in much the same way, and by the time it was over, Italy was understandably curious.

Germany gathered his papers, stood, and walked to the door. Italy followed somewhat hesitantly, before stopping. He watched as Russia crumpled a piece of paper and tossed it carelessly in the recycling bin by the door, before leaving with the Baltics and his scary sister trailing behind.

Germany looked at Italy, concern on his face. "Is something wrong?"

Italy hurriedly shook his head. "N-no, I think I forgot something. It'll only take a minute. You can go on, I'll catch up!"

Germany seemed uncertain, but after a moment, he nodded his head. "Um, alright. Hurry, it'll get dark soon."

Italy walked back to his seat and faked looking around for something as Germany left for their hotel. As soon as the sound of footsteps disappeared, Italy went to the recycling bin. He pulled out the ball of paper Russia had thrown in before, immensely relieved that it was the only thing in there. People put all kinds of things in these bins that didn't belong there... He shivered, remembering one time in particular that had been too disturbing for words, before finally opening up the paper.

When he saw what was on it, his first reaction was surprise. It was definitely not what he had expected.

However, a smile quickly grew on his face. While not what he had expected... this was certainly an interesting development. And, as home to one of the _very_ appropriately-named Romance Languages, he couldn't help but want to involve himself... Italy quickly stuffed the paper into his pocket, a plan formulating in his mind. '_I'll have to talk to big brother France and Spain...'_

oOo

France choked. "Y-you can't be serious!"

Italy's grin didn't falter. "I am." He handed the piece of paper to France, who looked over it with wide eyes.

"_Mon dieu..._You were not joking..." France looked like he was going to pass out. And still, Italy's grin remained.

"So, I have a plan," he said.

France stared at him for a moment, before smirking mischievously. "Let's hear it."

oOo

Spain's reaction was much more subdued, although he was still quite shocked. He was as eager as the other two to join in the plan, but he insisted on bringing Romano along. After a moment of thought, Italy decided to bring Germany, too.

Now that everyone was in agreement, all that was left to do was act...

oOo

Russia checked his watch. It was almost midnight. Why had Italy insisted he come to the dock at this hour? More importantly, why had he _agreed? _The large nation shook his head. _'If Italy's pouty-face was all it took, then this whole thing must be turning me soft...'_

Suddenly, he saw a light on the strip of dark water. He looked up to see a gondola making its way to the dock. An oil lamp sat on the bow, illuminating the water

As the gondola approached, Russia was able to make out two figures in it. One was standing near the stern, propelling the boat through the water. The other was sitting on the other end. In the lamplight, Russia could see that the seated person had blonde hair.

After a short while, the gondola reached the dock. Russia's eyes widened in shock. The person rowing the boat was Italy, and the one who was sitting down was...

"Estonia?"

Said nation looked up at him in shock. "M-Mr. Russia?"

They both looked at Italy, hoping for answers. "Ve~ Come on, get in! It's a nice night, isn't it?"

"What is going on, Italy?" Russia asked.

Italy only let out a cheerful "ve", and insisted once again that Russia join them.

Perplexed, Russia stepped into the gondola. He glanced at Estonia, but the other nation seemed just as confused as himself.

Italy began rowing the boat again. Before long, the other two nations relaxed. Although neither of them noticed, Italy's eyes were twinkling in glee. It was all he could do to contain himself until...

He saw it. Several yards ahead, a flashlight flashed a few times, in a very specific pattern. France had given the signal. It was time.

oOo

France chuckled as he finished the intricate pattern of flashlight flashes. "It will begin soon. Get ready, everyone!" he said quietly.

Everyone snapped to attention. As promised, Spain had come, and he had _somehow_ convinced Romano to come along. France doubted that he had bribed him with _tomatoes,_ though (winkwinknudgenudge)

Italy had convinced Germany to come, too. None of them were quite sure how, but when questioned, Germany would avoid eye contact and go bright red.

France, not wanting to be the only one to not bring anyone, and sensing a golden opportunity for the Bad Touch Trio to cause a bit of mischief, brought Prussia.

No, that last one _doesn't_ have any blatantly obvious hidden pairing. (Unless you want it to ;3)

Italy's five little helpers lined up on the sidewalk, with France at the end of the line, watching for the light from the gondola.

oOo

Italy grinned, before using his foot to hit the "play" button on the battery-operated CD player behind him. Luckily, neither Estonia or Russia had noticed it. They were lucky it was such a dark night, or this would've been much harder. _'At this rate,' _Italy thought, _'we'll definitely succeed!'_

Music started to play from the machine. The song was soft and familiar, although it lacked any lyrics. An instrumental version. Without any warning, Italy began singing.

oOo

"_There, you see him!__  
>Sitting there across the way.<em>_  
>He doesn't have much to say, but there's something about him.<em>_  
>And you don't know why, but you're dying to try.<em>_  
><em>_Vuoi baciare il ragazzo."_

Italy gestured toward Estonia as he sang. Russia and Estonia looked at Italy, bemused. Neither of them knew Italian, and so they had no idea what he was going on about.

"_Yes, you want him.__  
>Look at him, you know you do!"<em>

Their bemusement became shock. Russia looked like he was about to yell, or maybe attack Italy.

_"It's possible he wants you, too.__  
>There's one way to ask him."<em>

But his shouts of protest died in his throat.

_"It doesn't take a word, not a single word.__  
><em>_Vai su e baciare il ragazzo."_

They caught on to what Italy was saying.

"_Cantate__ con me"_

Several extra lights lights came on, and Germany, Prussia, France, Spain, and Romano were on the sidewalk, joining into the song. Germany seemed amused, while the Bad Touch Trio was making various obscene gestures. Romano was mumbling along with the lyrics, as if he didn't really _want_ to be there, but he had some kind of incentive, so he came, anyway.

Russia looked torn between curling up into a little ball and killing everyone present.

Estonia was just kind of in shock.

"_Sha-la-la-la-la-la~_

_My oh my!__  
>Looks like the boy's too shy.<em>_  
><em>_Non è intenzione di baciare il ragazzo."_

The extra lights went off, leaving only the ones necessary for visibility. Italy was, once again, the only one singing.

___"Sha-la-la-la-la-la~_

_Oh, how sad.__  
>Ve, it's a shame. <em>_Too bad.__  
><em>_Lui è il ragazzo mancherai."_

Russia looked about ready to pull his hair out. He glanced at Estonia, who was still staring at him in shock, and regained some semblance of calm. But he looked far more uncomfortable than before.

"_Now's your moment.__  
>Drifting under city lights!<em>_  
>Ve, you better do it soon!<em>_  
>No time will be better."<em>

Russia glared at Italy, who gestured towards Estonia.

_"He doesn't say a word,__  
>And he won't say a word<em>_  
><em>_Fino a quando non baciare la ragazza"_

Now both of them looked like deer in headlights. Italy tried to push Russia forward (rather unsuccessfully)._  
><em>_  
>"Sha-la-la-la-la-la~<em>

_Don't be scared!__  
>You've got the mood prepared.<em>_  
><em>_Vai su e baciare il ragazzo."_

More lack of success: Russia tried hiding behind his scarf. They all vaguely heard a splash, as if someone was actually _in_ the water (is that even legal?), but they were too preoccupied to pay much attention to it.

_Sha-la-la-la-la-la~_

_Don't stop now!__  
>Don't try to hide it; how<em>_  
><em>_Vuoi baciare il ragazzo."_

Russia and Estonia glanced at each other, and their eyes met. Both of them froze. Only Italy noticed France pop up out of the water, and lean against the other side of the gondola, behind Estonia._  
><em>_  
>"Sha-la-la-la-la-la~<em>

_Float along,__  
>And listen to the song.<em>_  
><em>_La canzone dice: "baciare il ragazzo!""_

__France and Italy silently counted down from three, before they both pushed the nations in front of them. The two wound up a hair's-breadth away from each other.

_"Sha-la-la-la-la-la~_

_Music plays.__  
>Don't let him get away!<em>_  
><em>_Vuoi baciare il ragazzo."_

They both hesitated. For a split second, it looked like they would both back away. But, a moment later, they closed the gap. It was soft. Tentative, even. It quickly deepened._  
><em>_  
><em>France and Italy sang the last few lines of the song, as the gondola finally came to rest at another dock. France hopped out of the water, and followed Italy to meet up with the others a few blocks away.

"Don't you have to take the boat back?" asked France.

Italy chuckled. "Yeah, but we can give them a little while longer. We can turn one of our flashlights on, so they'll know where we are when they finish. We don't want them getting lost."

France nodded. His little brother was being oddly reasonable tonight. It'd almost certainly wear off by morning.

The two reached the group. Everyone looked at them with varying degrees of anxiety. "So... ?" prompted Spain.

France and Italy were silent for a moment, before breaking out in laughter. Prussia fistpumped. "Yeah! I'll take that as a 'mission accomplished'!"

Everyone celebrated for a short while, before going back to the gondola. Italy and Germany took the boat back to the main dock, while the others led Russia and Estonia back to the hotels. The Bad Touch Trio tried pestering them for a while, but it ended quickly when Russia got irritated.

oOo

A small piece of paper skittered to a stop in the streets of Venice. The breeze had been carrying it since the previous night, but it finally paused, possibly trapped behind a building. The piece of paper had a simple drawing on it in blue pen

One figure stood, with a nose like an uppercase "J" and a long, flowing scarf. Next to it was another figure, with a small smile, square glasses, and short hair. And, above the two figures, there was a scribble that looked like a heart if you squinted.

Another breeze caught the edge of the slightly-crumpled piece of paper, and it flew into the sky, off to who-knows-where.

**~o~**

Ohgod. I was hardly able to write that one part ._. I will never ever ever be able to write lemons. Ever. If I ever manage to write a _lime_, I'll call it an accomplishment.


End file.
